The Ninth Life (Blackie and Care Cat Mystery #1)

Freddie pauses and I see her chewing on that name. Then she shrugs. ‘Maybe. I just know him as Mister.’


I close my eyes, a strange calm flowing through me. Perhaps it is the warmth. The bodies in this garret, the commercial enterprise that must still take place below, have heated this enclosed space more than any room I have inhabited in recent memory. Perhaps it is the pouch I still rest in. It is comforting to be held in this way, the scent of the girl dominating the rank sweat of the others. But it is also, I know through means that I cannot explain, because this girl is following a trail that has been long laid out.

Yes, I think to myself, the low rumble of a purr beginning. This is what must happen. She must seek out Mister. We must …

‘Is that a cat?’ My eyes pop open to see Freddie beaming down at me, the wear in her face eased by her wide-eyed smile. ‘How cute!’

‘Careful.’ Care draws back even as her friend reaches for me. But she need not fear my claws, not today. Instead, I allow the blowsy brunette to pull me from the bag and haul me into her blanket-covered lap. She has offered shelter, of a sort, to the girl and seems likely to provide information as well. Besides, she is warm.

‘So,’ the brunette says after an appropriate amount of cooing. The two females are leaning together against the wall, the blankets pulled up over their shoulders. ‘What are you looking to sell?’ She is stroking me as she speaks. But although I am purring and my eyes have closed, I listen carefully, curious to hear how Care will answer.

‘Just info,’ she says. My ears perk up. This woman is her friend but she does not trust her – not entirely. ‘It’s possible that someone is ripping him off.’

Freddie nods, her hand resting on my back. ‘That would be worth something.’ She sounds thoughtful. ‘It’s not – not someone here, is it?’ Her body shifts as she looks around.

The girl doesn’t bother to look. ‘No,’ she says. ‘They’re not the type.’

‘You’d be surprised.’ There’s a sharpness in her tone but Care does not respond and the brunette returns to stroking me. The two sit in silence for a moment, and I feel myself start to drift.

‘It wouldn’t be that goon he’s always traveling with. What’s his name, Brian?’ This close, I can feel Care shake her head. ‘Or his scrawny buddy?’

‘Please, Freddie.’ The girl’s voice is low, barely more than a whisper. ‘It’s better that you don’t know.’

The bigger girl shifts but keeps petting me. She is waiting, possibly, hoping that Care will break – will share something. Possibly she is thinking, running through what she knows. Who she knows. How. It is my job to stay still, to encourage the sharing of information, the cozy confidentiality between Care and this source.

It has its challenges. Combined with the warmth, the constant stroking is hypnotic. I am listening, collecting impressions and already planning how to share what I may gather with the girl. Already, I am envisioning those two hoodlums, strong-arm men of the crudest sort. They are flanking their master, the brains of the operation. Care is waiting. They are waiting.

‘Well, I hope you know what you’re doing.’ Freddie breaks first, frustrated at being left out. Her tone is peevish and her hand has become heavy. I look up at her, noting how her full lips pout. ‘Whoever it is, Mister is not going to be pleased.’

‘I know.’ Care’s tone is serious and I wonder if she is having second thoughts. She is not the killer that I am, and the news she carries may well bring a sentence of death. ‘But I need this.’

The brunette shifts and I resist the urge to sink my claws into her soft thighs. She’s curious, waiting to be entertained. With a sigh, Care obliges.

‘Someone – well, it was a cheat that hurt a friend of mine. Hurt him bad. And now, well, if I can do him a good turn, maybe he’ll sponsor me. Use me.’

‘Use you?’ Freddie looks her friend up and down, her body shaking with barely concealed laughter.

‘My services,’ Care clarifies. ‘I mean, if he’ll spread the word that I can find things out. That I—’

‘That you’re a rat?’ The brunette has stopped laughing.

‘That I can find things out,’ Care repeats. ‘Find people, things. Figure out what has happened.’ She pauses but the silence is no longer companionable. ‘It’s not like I’d go to the cops.’

I ride up and down as the big girl sighs. ‘Well, it’s your funeral,’ she says at last. ‘Just don’t bother him before tonight.’

‘What’s tonight?’ Care sounds like herself again. Girlish, but it’s an effort.

‘You’re kidding me, right?’ So does the brunette, though I can hear the boredom creeping in. She shifts, and I stretch out along her thigh once more as she renews her ministrations. ‘That’s all anyone has been talking about. The big deal. They’re bringing in a load. They’re going to light this town up.’

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